


Dare to Hope

by i_amnerd



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amnerd/pseuds/i_amnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not for the first time, Scott wishes that little brothers came with some kind of training manual or instruction booklet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare to Hope

Not for the first time, Scott wishes that little brothers came with some kind of training manual or instruction booklet. Especially the smallest ones.

"Alan, please just come here." He hates the tightness in his voice, barely concealing unshed tears.

"No!"

"Alan!" He barks, frustrated, and the youngest boy freezes before turning to face him, expression appropriately chastised, "Come. Here. Now."

Alan wanders over, clutching his teddy bear in one hand, the thumb of the other inserted firmly into his mouth. Scott crouches down so that they're face to face and tousels Alan's messy blonde hair.

"It's bedtime. That means you actually have to get into the bed."

"'Kay."

Scott scoops him up into his arms and carries him bodily across the room. Alan, of course, wraps his arms around his older brother's neck and refuses to let go.

"Why so clingy tonight, kiddo?" Scott asks as he sits down on the side of Alan's bed.

"I miss Mom." Alan mumbles into the side of Scott's neck.

Scott freezes. He tries to stop his arms tightening around Alan but fails.

"I miss her too, buddy."

His words are small and quiet. It's not often that he admits to his emotions, whether to himself or his brothers. Alan is the easiest to talk to because he can't read between the lines, he doesn't worry in the same way that the others do, and all he really wants is comfort.

There's a soft knock on the door and Scott looks up to see John, "Gordon's asleep. Virg promises me that he'll join him once he's finished one more chapter." He looks doubtful.

"I'll stick my head in once Captain Stubborn over here at least gives sleeping a try." He places a finger under Alan's chin and turns his head so they can look at one another, "I miss her too buddy but you gotta try and sleep. Everything'll seem better in the morning, you'll see."

He isn't convinced but it works for Alan.

"'Kay." He says again, releasing the death grip he has on Scott's neck and allowing himself to be tucked under the covers.

Scott and John sit with him until his eyelids slip shut and his breathing evens out. He looks so peaceful; it's always a striking contrast with his more usual whirlwind nature.

"Is he okay?" John asks, eyes wide and concerned.

"Yeah." Scott sighs.

"And you?"

John is too perceptive for his own good.

"I'm fine."

Even as the words leave his mouth, Scott knows that they aren't true. He's isn't fine and he hasn't been for a while. John usually leaves well enough alone but it's beginning to become clear that Scott needs some extra help this time.

"Sure thing, bro."

"You don't believe me."

"Not in a million years."

"Yeah." Scott pushes himself to his feet and holds out a hand to pull his brother up, "Lets go and check on Virgil and Gords."

"Right."

Virgil, it turns out, has already fallen asleep, curled in a ball around his book. Scott doesn't have the heart to take it from him, doesn't want to risk waking him up. Gordon is similarly out for the count; his young face makes him look deceptively innocent and non-havoc-making.

Dad's busy working but they let him know that the kids are asleep anyway, before escaping to the relative quiet of Scott's bedroom. They leave the door slightly ajar in case one of the boys starts crying out in their sleep.

Nightmares have been commonplace in their household of late; even Scott isn't immune. It scares him because how can he protect them from something inside their own heads? He's just a kid himself, susceptible to the same fears and worries but with the added pressure of being the eldest. With Mom gone, it's almost more than he can handle.

John stretches out on Scott's bed, hands clasped together beneath the back of his head. Scott, in turn, drops down to the floor, back against the side of his bed. John's hand dangles over the side and he tangles his fingers in Scott's floppy brown hair.

"Speak." He says softly.

"You're going to make someone a wonderful wife someday, Johnny, with all that nagging you do."

"Shut up."

"I can't speak and shut up at the same time." Scott replies innocently.

He can feel John's glare without having to see it and he laughs quietly. It's hard to know what to say to John; they might be partners in crime, always have been, really, but he's still the older brother. Being strong for John's sake, for the little ones' sakes, is the only real control he can still exert over his life.

Still, if he's falling apart, he can't be there for them so he makes a decision. John has always been his most trusted confidante; there's no reason why this time should be any different. He doesn't have to know _everything_ that's going on in Scott's head, after all. A sin of ommision's still a sin but somehow it doesn't seem so bad as an outright lie.

"I miss Mom." He pauses but John says nothing, letting him take his time, somehow aware that any reaction is liable to cause Scott to shut down completely, "I miss Mom and... and I'm scared. I'm scared that I'm doing everything that I can to protect you guys and make sure that you're all okay and it's still not going to be enough. We're all just kids; how are we supposed to cope with any of this? Dad's hardly ever here and when he is, he buries himself in his work rather than spend time with us."

"He's grieving; he misses her too. It doesn't mean that he doesn't still care about us."

"I know but we need him. I need him. You and I are strong, Johnny, but we're not that strong. We're teenagers, not parents. He can't expect us to shoulder that burden. Can he?"

"God, I hope not."

"We can't be Mom and Dad. We shouldn't even have to... to be Mom." Scott feels tears start slipping down his cheeks, hot and wet, and he wipes them away angrily.

He hears a noise and then John is sitting beside him. His little brother's eyes are wide and filled with concern but unafraid.

"We don't expect you to be Mom." John says, "You're not her. You're one of us. You're our big brother and that's all we expect you to be. It's all that we want you to be."

"I know but..."

"Scotty. Stop. How do I get this through that thick skull of yours? We're going to be fine."

Scott's voice is small as he says, "I'm not sure that I am."

"Bullshit." John says, adamantly.

Scott gives him a cock-eyed look but lets the language slide. It's a long time since he could get away with telling John off for stuff. If Gordon or Virgil starting picking it up, however, Scott foresaw clips around the ears for all of them.

"Bullshit." John repeats, "You can do this and on the days when you can't, you've got me. We're going to be away at school half the time, once term starts again, anyway. Dad'll pick up the slack and we'll get a break from it all."

"I guess."

"You guess? Dude. Work with me here. Please?"

And there it is. That one little word that they barely ever on anyone other than Alan because it's just too powerful. It's the easiest way for one brother to bend another to his will. Scott knows desperation when he hears it, knows that John really must believe what he's saying if he's willing to go this far to convince him.

Scott sighs and fixes his little brother with a hard stare, "Fine. I guess I manage hope. For now. Anything for a quiet life." He huffs, "You're so... persistent. It's annoying."

"And yet you love me anyway."

"God knows why."


End file.
